"What did you just say to me?" Seo-Jun asked, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register that usually made people trip over themselves to apologize.
"You heard me," I snapped. I was done. The heat, the humiliation, the way they had passed me around like a communal trophy—it had finally burned away the part of me that was afraid. I looked around the room at the hundreds of students watching us, then back at the four 'Kings' who thought they owned the air I breathed. "You've already made me a target. You've ruined the only thing I had in this school. So what are you going to do now? Carry me out again? Go ahead. But stop acting like I'm enjoying this pathetic show."
I grabbed the edge of the tray I hadn't even touched. My heart was thudding against my ribs like a trapped bird, and the scent of them—still clinging to my skin, still marking me—made me want to scream.
